


I Won’t Leave: a Destiel Christmas

by Explizit_Lizards



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Completed, Dean Winchester - Freeform, Destiel - Freeform, Fluff and Angst, John Winchester - Freeform, M/M, SPN - Freeform, SPN family, Sam Winchester - Freeform, Supernatural - Freeform, cas, cass - Freeform, castiel - Freeform, djin, misha - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2018-01-02
Packaged: 2020-01-15 15:47:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18502087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Explizit_Lizards/pseuds/Explizit_Lizards
Summary: Dean Winchester is trapped in a Djin world and is forced to face his feelings for Cass that he has kept locked away for so long.In this Dijn world Dean gets to experience Christmas with his family and is forced to confront his father.





	1. Chapter 1

The bar is loud, but not like the normal perpetual chatter that most bars have. No, this is more like a fucking symphony of noise raping my ears. The room is crowded, the chewing and constant blabber amplified tenfold in my ears; a ringing repeating the same phrase over and over but the words are unintelligible. It's as if a hiss is coming at me from all directions.

I've only had a few drinks at this point— only a few, and despite that I don't remember the last time I got plastered drunk. At the rate I've been drinking I'd have to drink a whole goddamn liquor sore to feel any kind of a buzz. Such is the life of an alcoholic. I admit, I'm an addict. I get going and going and I just can't stop. But not just with drinking; with every goddamn thing. 

Sammy and I have been workin' a case, another of those goddamn genies, what are they called? I can't think, my mind is spinning. Hell, the whole room is spinning.

That's when it clicks. The sonuvabitch laced my goddamn drink. I've been fucking roofied. Shit. I get up, and the bartender tries to help me. I must look so damn fried. I kind of wave him off, but it looks more like I was swatting my nose or some shit and he continues to try and help. The ground swims beneath my feet, swooping from side to side, and the people... their faces seem to turn to me, changing and mutating. Blood starts leaking from their eyes, noses, ears, mouths, even from their goddamn pores. 

Not real, not real. I force my eyes shut and make my way to the exit, reaching for my phone to call Sam, who's back at the goddamn motel doing research or some shit. I press call right as the hand grabs me, and everything goes black.


	2. Chapter 2

I wake with a start. I'm laying in a lay-Z-boy, Brad Paisley, of all things, playing in the distance. He's singing about penguins or some shit and the whole thing is just bizarre. But the place smells incredible, like the best food you could ever imagine. Bobby is standing over me, smiling that old wonderful smile of his, and I almost let out a sob. He looks exactly like he did last time I saw him whole.

"Bobby?" I ask, uncertainty in my voice

"Who'd you think it was, you idgit? Your grandma?" I crane my head looking past him.

That's when I realize it: I'm in Bobby's house. It has the same faded wallpaper and shelves stacked with books and miscellaneous artifacts.

"It's about time you woke up, dinner's almost ready." The voice comes from Sam, who stands in the kitchen, chopping vegetables.

I get out of the lay-Z-boy and check the place out. It's strange being back here, in the place that was my only home. The whole house seems to crash down on me, filling me with all the wonderful memories that I had had here.

I'm wearing all the clothes I normally wear, but I have my old necklace on. Am I still a hunter?

As I wander around the house I know so well, I realize it's full of people. People who had long since died, and some who are still alive; but it is my family. Everyone is there: Charlie, Kevin, Ellen, Joe, Jody, even Mom and Dad. They are all there scattered around the house, just talking to each other as if it is the most natural thing in the world. I don't know what to do with myself. The more I see, the more I find my grip on reality slipping. This is my family— my whole family together— and it's so damned wonderful.

"Dean, I was just telling Charlie here how you got a promotion in your new job." Jody appears from nowhere, making me jump. Sweet Jody Mills, one of the few people I'm lucky enough to still have in my life.

"Dean, you alright? You look a little pale." She asks.

"What? I'm alright, I'll just be— uh, right back." I make my escape, slamming the bathroom door shut as soon as they're out of sight. I splash water on my face and try to gather my thoughts.

This is the Djin! I've been stuck inside a Djin's artificial paradise world before, I know how these places work. But no matter how much I try to persuade myself to leave, I can't help but want to stay, just to figure out what the hell is going on. So far, this world is a lot more pleasing than the one I was in before, and to be honest with myself, I don't overly want to leave, at least not yet. I pull out my phone and research some of the cases Sam and I have done over the years, but nothing comes up. Not that we didn't solve the cases; the cases themselves don't exist. Apparently in this world, there is no such thing as monsters. Last time I was 'sucked' up by a Djin, Sam and I hated each other in the dream-world. I wonder if that's the case in this world. I decide to try and face it all again. I reach for the doorknob, but stop abruptly, noticing a picture of Sam, Dad, and I at a baseball game; a picture I know for certain isn't real. But it makes me smile anyway. Who knew a fake memory could give me such joy.

It still feels so strange to be in this house again. A nice kind of strange, like I'm finally home. I leave the bathroom, about to test the 'bitch' 'jerk' trope on Sam to see which alternative reality Sam this is, but I stop. Sam is still in the kitchen, but this time there's a woman with him, one I hadn't noticed prior to my bathroom adventure. Sam is holding her by the waist, doing that fucking hug/kiss/snuggle thing couples do. That's when it clicks: It's Jess. A little girl runs by me and latches herself on to Sam's leg. Out of all the things I've seen today, that breaks my heart. Sam could have been a father. He could have been so fucking happy. I'm so goddamn close to crying I want to smack myself. But fuck it, I haven't been this happy in... well, forever. That's when Sam notices me staring and gives me a quizzical look. God I must, look like an idiot, just standing there trying not to cry.

"You okay Dean?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," I hesitate before adding, "bitch."

Sam smirks at me then says, "Jerk."

That pushes me over the edge and I have to do everything I can to not cry. Fuck, since when do I cry? I'm supposed to be made of fucking nails, damn it. Sam, noticing my pained, look starts to speak, but that's when the little girl jumps at me, throwing me into a bear hug.

"Can you give me a piggyback ride, Unca Dean?" She's wearing a pink tutu with a plastic sword at her side, and she asks with these big puppydog eyes that there's no way I can say no. So, saving myself from the embarrassment of crying in front of fake Sam, I pick the little girl up and swing her onto my back. I walk around the house with her on my back, finding my way to where the others are sitting around the house. The girl can't be more than 3 or 4, but she has this kind of wisdom to her, sort of like Sam, even when he was that little.

"So, what's your name little princess?" I ask her, trying to find a discreet way to figure out her name.

"I'm not a princess, I'm doctor Odette!"

"Okay, doctor," I say, chuckling, "Where's your grandpa?"

"He's in the living room talking with Grandma and Aunty Ellen." I raise my eyebrow at the Aunty Ellen. Is everyone related to me in this world? I don't know what to say to my dad, or if I will be able to say anything to him. My emotions might get the better of me. My dad was a great man, and no one can convince me otherwise, but I never was sure if he was a good one.

I find them in the study, just talking and drinking beer, as if it's the most normal thing in the world. I stand in the doorway, just looking in. They look so happy. Mom and Dad are holding hands and laughing, Ellen is drinking a beer, and they just look so damned perfect.

All of a sudden I can't go in. It isn't real, and just being there would make everything more painful. My dad, with his tired old eyes, is smiling. The same face, the same wonderful, horrible face. The face that, when it smiled, was the most wonderful thing in the world, but kept you up at night because of its scowl. I know if I go in I'll ruin the beautiful blissfulness of it all.

"Are you going to go in, Unca Dean?" I almost drop the girl, forgetting she was there. Part of me wants to; she isn't real either. I want to wake up. I desperately want to wake up; this world is too painfully wonderful.

"I'm fine doctor. Come on, let's go back into the kitchen."

A turkey is being pulled out of the oven, making me realize something. Food, family members, and— there it is; the most beautiful Christmas tree you ever saw. This is Christmas. Sam and I never celebrated Christmas much, we both mutually decided it was too difficult. Even as kids there was never enough money for food or presents, and Dad was never around, so I normally spent the day trying to make something special for Sammy, because Sam deserved to have Christmas, dammit, he was just a kid. I spent most of our childhood trying to spare Sam from the crappiness of our lives. I did the best I could, whether that meant taking the hit when Dad was on a rampage, or sneaking away when Dad wasn't around to work and scrounge up the money to buy Sammy a fucking present for Christmas. I did a pretty good job, though. I got Sam to believe in good old Kris Kringle until he was 9, and I gotta say, that is one of my biggest accomplishments. Needless to say, I get a bit teary-eyed when we all sit down to eat. My family, together, alive, talking, eating. It's such a simple thing but... I don't know, it's just... they're all all so fucking happy, I can't stand it. I'm ashamed to say I kind of forget, in that moment, that it isn't real. It's just so fucking wonderful. I've gotten to the point in this dream-like adventure where I don't care if I ever go back home.


	3. Chapter 3

It isn't until we're all sitting together that I notice someone is missing.

"Where's Cass?" I guess it could be possible that Cass doesn't exist in this imaginary world of mine, but it's just... when you've been through as much shit together as Cass and I have, you kind of expect him to be in your imaginary paradise family. I mean the dude's risked his life for me multiple times. He's family now. 

Sam kind of laughs at my question

"Dude, he's only been gone for, like, 10 minutes, chill." I raise my eyebrow at Sam (I honestly wouldn't hesitate to punch fake Sam in the face). Fake Sam, seeing my contempt at his comment, backtracks and apologizes. "I'm kidding, geez. He went to get the fruitcake because someone," he glares at Kevin, "forgot to buy it." Kevin flicks a pea at Sam in protest. 

We talk for a while, and people keep congratulating me on my mashed potatoes, which I apparently made. And not to brag, but they are fucking awesome. And everything is warm and happy. 

The door flies open, giving way to Cass and the cold. Snowflakes swirl around him, sticking to his hair and eyelashes. His scarf blows into his face— of course he's wearing a scarf. He comes barging in through the door, triumphantly holding the fruitcake over his head. Everyone kind of mockingly cheers for him. When he walks by me to sit in his chair, which was across from me, he kind of rests his hand lightly on the back of my neck. It's so subtle and quick I don't have time to react, but it was strange. Maybe it's an angel thing? Is he even an angel in this world? I decide to let it pass. It was probably just him being his weird self. When he gets to his seat, he begins telling us his 'tale of woe'.

"I had to go to five different stores to even find any, and when I finally found a place that had some there was only one left and I had to fight a woman off with nails and teeth for it, and I kid you not, she hit me on the head with her purse to get it. Normally I would've let her keep it, but I needed it more. I knew you all were depending on me, so I took it and ran." Cass's story gets everyone kind of riled up and laughing, and I find it strange that that was probably the biggest fight this Cass has ever been in, and that these people's biggest problem was getting a fruit cake for Christmas.

Throughout dinner, Cass keeps staring at me. His eyes are soft and almost hungry, and he always has this flirtatious smile on his lips. I don't know what it means. He's been acting strange to me all through dinner. Softer. I don't know what the fuck it means. To make everything worse, "Dad" keeps looking between the two of us and glaring, and I can't stand it. I hate being under my dad's scrutiny, especially when I don't know what the fuck I did. If I had the balls, I would ask him what the hell he was glaring at, but I could never stand up to Dad. 

After dinner, Sam puts Odette to sleep, telling her to go to bed early or Santa won't come, and it was so cute, I couldn't help but think about what life would've been like if I still had Ben. Maybe I could've been a dad. 

The rest of us stay up and talk and play cards, and I have one of the best times I've ever had. 

Later that the night, Dad pulls me aside, taking me into Bobby's office. The look on his face frightens me. Stone cold, emotionless; one I'd seen many times before. He leans against the bookshelf and crosses his arms across his chest, and just looks disappointed. I straighten myself up out of habit and try my best to keep eye contact with him, knowing that his tongue-lashings are always worse when you don't look him in the eye. 

"So, son." he says the 'son' as if it were acidic. It disappoints me to see that even without monsters my dad is just as bitter. "What is your next step? What do you plan on doing next?" I don't know what the hell he's talking about, obviously, so I kind of stare at him blankly, trying to think of anything intelligible to say. I'm not afraid of my dad, but I don't much appreciate being on the wrong side of his fist. I hate myself for this. I am a grown-ass man now, and this isn't even real. I am about to retort, but luckily Cass saves me, coming through the door.

"Hey John, do you mind if I borrow Dean for a minute..." Cass's voice trails off when he sees the look on my father's face. John kind of gestures for Cass to take me away, like he's done with me. He was always done with me. But the fucked up thing is I don't even know what he was talking about in the first place. John picks up a bottle and takes a swig. Jesus, I didn't even notice he'd been drinking. 

Cass grabs my hand and pulls me from the room. His expression goes from sweet and happy to dark real fast, and he won't let go of my hand. Finally, I pull my hand from his grip, weirded out by the length he was holding it for. He looks strangely hurt by this, and something else I can't place. A tenderness I haven't seen in his face before. 

I follow him into a bedroom. He shuts the door behind us and kind of just stares at me. I'm ashamed to admit I'm feeling kind of uneasy. My hands are sweating and I get butterflies in my stomach. I don't know what the hell is wrong with me. I've felt like crying more then I care to admit during this genie fiasco, and now I'm getting nervous being left alone in a room with Cass. Jesus fuck I am a mess.

Cass leans on the bed. He's wearing the most ugly-ass Christmas sweater you ever saw, and jeans. I think this is the first time I've ever seen him out of his trench coat.  He looks nice; he seems to fit well in this make-believe world.

"Are you okay, Dean? I know your dad can be..." I glare at him and he trails away. I don't like Cass talking about my father like that. I don't even like the idea of Cass knowing my father, or my troubles with him. I prefer to keep both worlds separate. Cass clears his throat and continues, "I know he doesn't approve of us." Us? the fuck is he even talking about? I hate being so clueless. It makes me feel so naive and stupid. What the hell is even happening? Cass walks towards me and grabs my hips and holds me the way Sam held Jess. I shove him off of me.

"What the Hell, Cass?"

"Jesus, Dean! You can't just push me away and not tell me what's wrong!" Cass looks hurt and slightly angry, but mostly hurt. My head is spinning. Cass is talking but I can't comprehend anything he's saying. I'm dating Cass, Cass was dating me. Jesus, am I in love with the sonuvabitch? Fuck. I can't concentrate, and damn, all of my emotions and feelings that I had stuffed away burst and I am drowning in them. I need to get out of the room. I need to be able think about this and sort all this shit out. Jesus, I am a grown man! I shouldn't even have these types of questioning thoughts at my age. 

"I need some air." I stumble out of the room, and fake Cass follows me out into the hallway, and I don't stop him. I lean against the wall and try to sort out my thoughts. 

There have been many situations in real life when Cass and I have risked our lives for each other, and I guess you have to love someone a lot to be willing to do that for another person, but... I don't know, I've been such a fool. I've forced myself to suppress these feelings for years, and now here he is, expecting something from me, so when he kisses me right there in the hallway, I let him. I don't really give anything back, I just stand there and let him kiss me. But that's the most I have to give at the moment, and this isn't even real. It's like masturbating, in a way; kissing your own imagination. It feels nice, but it isn't real. 

It's a vey wet kiss. I think I actually started crying, which just makes him pull me closer, and it feels so fucking nice. Shit, I'm so in love.

This isn't the first time I've kissed a boy, I have to admit. I try my best not to think about the first time. I was only a kid, high school age, it was during one of the few times I was actually attending school. Sammy was at a slumber party or some shit, and Dad was on a hunting trip and wasn't going to be home for a few days, so I had the motel room to myself.  There was this one kid that I really liked. It was, you know, just a crush; kids have those things. So I stupidly invited the kid over to our motel room and we just kind of made out right there in the room. My dad came back early from his hunting trip that day, and guess what he come home to see? His disappointment of a son making out with some boy. He yelled and yelled, I don't even remember what he said, but he kicked out the kid I was kissing. Hell, I don't even remember the kid's name. He was just some random kid at school I thought was hot, and I was a horny, questioning kid. Well, the kid got out of there as fast as he could, as any sane person would have. Then Dad started wailing on me. He smacked me across the face and kind of grabbed me by the arms. I'll never forget what he said to me, anger in his eyes like I'd never seen there before. He was so angry he was almost calm, and he said to me, "I didn't raise my son to be a fag." And with that, he grabbed a bottle of beer and left the room. I remember just sitting in silence, my heart just torn to shreds. Do you have any fucking idea how traumatizing it is for your own motherfucking father to hit you and call you a fag? Well I do, and it damn near killed me. I left the motel that day, and didn't come back for a week. I just kind of stumbled around, feeling sorry for myself. I spent most of that week hating my dad, but mostly hating myself. God, I hated myself so much. As much as anyone can imagine.

When I finally did come back, I couldn't look my dad in the eyes, and it took another month for either of us to even talk to each other. I haven't kissed a boy since then. Have I thought about it? Well, yeah, but I shoved it down. No matter how hard I try, I have this mental strain to do what my dad wanted. Even to this day, years after his death, I still follow his rules and guidelines, because no matter how much of a bastard he was, he always knew best. So as I stand here in the hallway kissing imaginary Cass, a layer of my dad's grasp on me lifts, and I'm finally just me.

Someone clears their throat behind me, I forcefully push Cass away. Sam is standing there. His face has scratches and cuts and his arm is bleeding and he stands there awkwardly, looking between Cass and I. 

"African Dream Root?" I ask, trying not to look back at Cass, pretending he isn't there. Sam nods, still with a perplexed look on his face. 

"Hey what is this?" Cass barges in, "What happened to you, Sam?" 

"Um, Dean, we should go." 

"Oh yeah. Right." I turn back to say something to Cass, but change my mind and follow Sam.


	4. Chapter 4

We drive in silence. The only sound is the pounding of rain and sleet on the windshield. I turn on the radio, flipping through the stations until I find classic rock.

"So how'd you find me?"

Sam seems caught off guard by the question; he's still looking at me with an incredulous expression on his face.

"I, uh... well, after you didn't come back last night, I went to all the abandoned buildings and warehouses and eventually found you and the Dijin. I was able to take down the Djin down fairly quickly, and then I just used the African Dream Root to wake you up, and here we are." I nod in approval.

We sat in quiet after that, listening to the radio, the music floating over us, making the silence almost bearable. The lyrics swell in the small space: 'be a simple kind of man, oh won't you do this for me, son, if you can...' This song always makes me sad. It reminds me of Dad, and I've already had enough of him today.

Sam finally can't take the silence anymore.

"Dude, are we just not going to talk about this?"

"I don't know what the hell you're talking about," I reply gruffly, turning up the music to block him out.

"Dean, it's me. You can tell me things, Jesus. Dean, I will support you no matter what."

"Ha, well that's funny, because I don't need your goddamn approval. In fact, I don't want your goddamn opinion. This has nothing to do with you."

"How long?"

"How long what? How long have I been queer? How long have I wanted to bang Cass?" I growl. Shit, I didn't mean to make it so out there.

"Hey, come on man, you don't need to get defensive. I just wanted to know how long you've been keeping this a secret, from me. Did you seriously think I wouldn't accept you if I knew? Do you not trust me?"

I laugh bitterly at his words,

"You always think its about you, don't you Sammy. Well, did you ever just think, that maybe, just maybe, my sexuality is something I'm not obligated to tell you?"

To be fair, I was closeted to myself just a few hours ago, but Sam doesn't need to know that; I'm trying to make a point. Sam looks away and stares out the window, seeming hurt.

"Sorry, I didn't mean... I just..."

I sigh and tell him in a shaky voice, "High school, 10th grade, that's wh-when I knew." I decide there isn't any harm in telling him; all the damage has been done.

"So, are you gay?" I let out an exasperated sigh at his question.

"Ha, don't worry Sam. I still dig chicks."

We sit in awkward silence again for a while. It's so painful I want to jump out the goddamned window. It's dark out, the world mimicking the atmosphere of the car.

Then Sam speaks up, breaking the blissful quiet.

"You have to tell him."

"What?" I stare at him incredulously.

"Cass, you have to tell him how you feel."

"Ha, no. That is definitely not happening, and I swear if you even as much mention this to him—"

"Dean, you have to tell him. I've see the way he looks at you." I start at those words. Maybe Cass does have feelings for me back. That would explain his lack of personal space around me. But I can't even imagine it. Who in the hell would fall in love with me? "At first, I though it was just an angel thing, but I think he likes you Dean." I shake my head

"This is by far the worst idea you have ever had."

"Why? How could telling Cass how you feel possibly be that bad?"

"Well, first of all, if my confession of 'love' scares him off we could lose our only angel connection." Not to mention I'll be heartbroken if he turns down my affections, and I'm honestly not ready for that kind of rejection right now.

"Cass isn't going to leave, Dean, he's a good guy. I'm sure he'll understand."

"Does none of this bother you? I'm in love with a fuckin' angel, who also happens to be a man."

"Why would that bother me? Am I surprised? Sure, but dude; there's nothing wrong with it. Does it bother you?" Does it bother me? Kind of, but that's more my dad's constant degrading and verbal abuse speaking. Shit, why is this so hard for me to accept? I feel like my whole life of restraining and hiding it is trying to strangle me. But Sam's words keep echoing in my mind: 'Cass won't leave.'


	5. Chapter 5

I sit on the hood of Baby, praying to Cass. Sam's inside the bunker, sleeping or something. I decided a while ago that maybe I should tell him— that is, if I'm able to work up the balls to do it. "Cass... I-I nee— uh... want to talk to you about something—"

"The stars are so beautiful. Isn't it funny how the most beautiful things in this universe weren't made by God?" I jump when Cass appears next to me, staring up at the stars.

"Cass?"

"Hello, Dean." I smile at his words, almost tempted to give him a pickup line; 'you know what is prettier then the stars? You.' But, being a sensible human being with common sense, I decide against it.

Now that I have him here, I'm not sure what to say. What do you say to someone you're tragically in love with? For a while, we don't say anything. He stares up at the stars and I stare at him. I know his face so well. The crinkles on his cheeks when he smiles, the curve of his lips, the brilliance of his eyes. I've spent more time then I care to admit just staring at him, taking him in. He really is beautiful, in an unconventional way; everything about him is just so fucking wonderful. Jesus, I'm in love with him. I'm hyper aware of him. Of his breathing. Of his whole presence; the way his pants are tight on his thighs; even his tie blowing in the breeze sets me on edge. I want to kiss him for real, not a fake genie version of him. So I do. When he turns to say something, I kiss him, hard. It's kind of a gruff kiss; I kind of just shoved my face into his.

I pull away once I come to my senses. Cass just sits there, a shocked look on his face, his whole body kind of tensed up.

"Sorry," I mumble and walk away, back towards the bunker, defeated. I don't know what the fuck I expected to happen. That he'd magically fall in love with me?

"Dean," Cass yells running after me. His voice cracks when he says my name. "Dean." Why does he have to sound so sad when he says my name? Why does he have to sound so fucking sad? "Dean wait." Cass grabs my arm, and I almost push it off, but I can't bring myself to do it. I can't look him in the eye, so I look at our feet instead. He grabs my face and makes me look him in the eye. The intensity of his stare frightens me.

"It was an accident," I mumble, still not meeting his eyes. His hands are still on my face, and I hate myself for letting him keep them there.

"An accident? Dean," he practically growls this, and if he wasn't cradling my face I think he would hit me, "Do you have any idea how much I have sacrificed for you, Dean? Do you have any damned idea how much I've given up for you? My brothers and sisters hate me and wish me dead, I'm no longer welcome at home, I've lost my grace, and you dare say that was an accident? Did you ever think that maybe, just maybe, I'm in love with you Dean? And that in itself can get me killed? It is blasphemy for an angel to love a human, so when you kiss me, don't you dare say it was an accident. Don't you dare." I've never seen him this angry. He drops his hands from my face and turns away from me. I am speechless. I just stand there staring at him, having no idea how to comprehend this. He loved me?

"Dean, I have been alive for millennia," he starts again. This time his voice is so soft I can barely hear it, "and through all those years, I have never met someone like you, Dean. Time passes differently for me. A whole lifetime can pass in what feels like seconds for me. But... But when I met you, it's as if time stopped, and I realized this whole time I've been alive, I was never truly living."

He trails off and walks away from me, I fall forward a bit, my mind spinning from his words.

"Unfortunately, I don't think you can imagine what it means for an angel to fall in love with a human, it's blasphemy."

"I understand, Cass, you don't have to—" He cuts me off.

"Dean, we both already know I'm an abomination, what's another sin on the table?" And then he kisses me. It was a wonderful kiss, not clumsy or rough. He wraps his arms around me, pulling me closer to him. I push my fingers through his hair, making a fist in it— something I've wanted to do for a very long time. This is where we belong; together in each other's arms. We are finally home.

I pull away and cradle his face in my hands.

"Cass, I love you,"

"I know," and he kisses me again.


	6. Author’s Note

I hope you all enjoy my belated Christmas fic. Here is a destiel fan edit video I made. I hope you all had a wonderful holiday and New Years.

https://youtu.be/2ig52hZSVAY

P.S.- I'm sorry for spelling Casteil's name like Cass instead of Cas, but I couldn't resist.


End file.
